Two Roads
by forty-two dreams
Summary: ... he had never encountered an elevenyearold who would rather study science than magic.
1. The Wrong Turn

"Two roads diverged in a wood and I:

I took the road less traveled by

And that has made all the difference."

-Frost

"That's amazing. It's just like magic!"

"What do you want me to do, wave a magic wand and fix it?"

"I'm going to be a witch for Halloween!"

Some people are ultra-sensitive to talk about seeing, because they are blind. Others are tuned to walking metaphors, because they can't. Things that other people don't notice hit them like stray ping-pong balls. They are the muggle equivalent of squibs, observing the people around them doing things they will never be able to do.

However, the fate of these people is in some ways worse, but in others better, than the fates of high-school dropouts and people who don't know how to swim. These people are able to master necessary skills, but for whatever reason didn't master them at the appropriate time. When they finally feel the need to give it another try, it's too late. The time has passed, and they're too busy or prideful to undergo the necessary training. They are hit by far heavier ping-pong balls. These are the muggle equivalents of Liza DiMarco and her peers, the people on the road less traveled.

Liza's decision had seemed inevitable at the time. When you're eleven and overly intelligent, it seems like you can grow up to do anything. Her mother's chuckled assertions that 'Liza's going to find the cure for cancer one day and save us all' only appeared to be half-exaggerations.

Oh, the visitor had astounded her at first with his tricks, but the DiMarcos, who both had intensive experience in physics, had little trouble realizing the 'evolutionary possibility of humans with enhanced energy systems'. What's more, they hadn't been particularly impressed with the ministry employee's limited knowledge of it- perhaps he hadn't been paying particular attention in his magical history classes? His reply of 'Well, you'll see. Binns can't keep anyone's attention very long' hadn't made a very good impression, either.

Liza's decision was mainly influenced not by the visitor's competence, though, but by one deceptively simple question: What can you do with a magical education? When it became clear that this was not a girl aspiring to own a shop on Diagon Alley, the Ministry visitor had run through the more prestigious careers. She didn't seem keen on political office, and it rather dismayed her to hear that even the best Healers held power only over magical diseases. Aurors sounded too much like high-risk police officers, people Liza knew she could only admire from afar. A simple account of the magical judicial system absolutely shocked her- it was positively medieval!

No one could say she didn't weigh her options carefully. A part of her was still eleven and thrilled about the possibilities of learning something her parents never could. Was it worth it, though? In this world, she was a bright student with an acceptance letter to the Winchester Secondary Magnet School of Mathematics and Science, and later a career in medicine. She could very well 'cure cancer'. In the magical world, she was another hapless first-year with no guarantee of any particular talent. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, "but I've considered my options and I'm going to have to decline."

The visitor was shocked. He had encountered many things in his department: strident disbelievers, uneducated gapers, and even some children whose parents, like the DiMarcos, who were not willing to let their children go anywhere that did not guarantee them a spot at the top. His response was always the same. "The only person who is able to make the decision is the prospective witch or wizard." A few children had been disowned for going. In all his time at this post, though, he had never encountered an eleven-year-old who would rather study science than magic.

Nearly ten years had passed since that day. Liza's first year at WSMSMS (or semsems as it was called) had been a rather rude awakening. It soon became clear that she was never going to cure anything if she didn't let go of her parents' liberal beliefs- didn't she know you couldn't discuss alternatives to the Quantum Theory until University? In fourth year she transferred, but to no avail.

"Oy! Smart girl! The man at this table has been waiting fifteen minutes for you to get him some coffee!" At least she'd gotten the demanding career part right.

Here she was, almost twenty-one, working a job that, if she had understood the ministry representative correctly, would be done by little green elves in the magical world. She had started getting the Kwikspell letters years ago, but she didn't have a wand, didn't have a clue how to get one, and usually tore them up. Her unusual genes had little use for her besides scaring a few boring professors and quick ex-boyfriends.

Liza sighed. It was on days like these she wished the roads in life had handy signs.

Review, please! Does anybody want to know what happens next?


	2. The Summons

Wow! Reviews! I suppose I have to finish now, but it might take a while, as school starts tomorrow here. Oh, and I forgot a disclaimer in the last chapter, so here it is:

I don't own Theodore Nott, the Ministry of Magic, or magical headgear.

Owls excited Liza. She couldn't help it, they had been tied to magic in her head since she had seen her visitor send one. For the last few years, all that had carried her through was the hope that one day, an owl would show up and give her a second chance. Something like:

Dear Ms. DiMarco,

I don't know if you remember anything about the wizarding world, and I'm sure you're quite busy with your career, but there's no getting past it- we need your help. Last week, we magicked our special top hat into telling who the most powerful wizard in the world was, the one who could defeat the dark witch Hortense for us. Imagine our surprise when your name came out! Your presence is requested as soon as humanly possible to start Auror training.

Sincerely,

The Minister of Magic

Okay, so that was really, really unlikely. A girl could dream, couldn't she? In any event, she never expected her magical destiny to walk through the door, especially in the form of a man like Jeremy Icklebogg.

He was tall, bald, and covered from head to toe in scarves, coats, and other obscure winter clothing that was entirely inappropriate for the September weather. At first, she couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but when she took off the muffler in front of his mouth, he gasped, "I don't know how these muggles manage dressed this way. These are the cheapest clothes I could find, as I didn't want anyone aware of my, er, condition. Just trying to stay inconspicuous.

Even if he was purple, he still looked better than he had.

"Please come in, Mr.?"

"Icklebogg, but please, call me Jeremy."

"Jeremy, then. Did you mention muggles?" she asked, trying not to seem too eager.

"Yes, I did. Why don't I start from the beginning?"

"Er, all right."

"It all started a few years after the Dark Lord Voldemort was vanquished for the final time by a boy named Harry Potter. Now most of his minions, known as death eaters, were brought to justice. Some, though, still saw it as their mission to continue his mission to annihilate the muggles. These decided to take a different approach- infiltrating the very heart of the wizarding world- the Ministry of Magic.

Through a clever campaign of propaganda, which gradually made muggles out to the general public as dangerous, they managed to get a member of the Walpurgis party appointed Minister within twenty years."

Liza had to interrupt at this. "Muggles- dangerous? Don't wizards have weapons sophisticated enough to kill them all if they wanted?"

"Of course they do. It's pure bigotry- they're still sore about the Salem witch trials. The average wizard doesn't know that, though. Which brings me to my next point- our only hope is a spy."

"Our? Who is included in this?"

"An organization," said Jeremy dramatically, "known as the Order of the Phoenix, committed to stopping the Walpurgi and all their branches."

"So where do I come into this?"

"I'm getting to that. The ministry has a security rule that all wands must be checked at the door to the ministry. They don't want any assassination attempts, you see. Therefore, our only hope is wandless magic. It's almost impossible to anyone who's learned wand magic, so the untrained are our only hope.

Of course, we can't wait around for an eleven-year-old to grow up and spy for us, which makes you, an untrained adult witch, our best chance."

Liza could have turned a cartwheel. She was finally going to be a witch! "So, where do I start training?"

"Well, in addition to magic, you're also going to have to take a crash course in ten years of wizard culture. We thought it would be best if you could pose as a pureblood. So, you're going to be staying at the house of one of the few purebloods on our side, Theodore Nott. You'll have to take a leave of absence from your career. Sorry if you were about to discover something important."

"Oh, I think I can just quit my 'career', as you put it. It was a dead end anyway," she chuckled. Thinking back to her fantasy letter, she decided this was close enough.

Okay, so I couldn't resist

I promise, no annoying LD/TN romance, unless you ask for it, of course.


	3. Ready or Nott

Disclaimer: I don't own Diagon Alley, Nott manor, or strangely pointed toes.

Liza was rather bewildered as she entered Diagon Alley. Like most muggle-born first years (which she was, in a sense), she was taking in enough new sights, sounds, and smells to put her mind on sensory overload. Unlike a first-year, though, she was going to be expected to pass as one of them in order to get the robes, books, and materials needed in her new mission.

Therefore, she was strictly forbidden from pointing, gawking, or asking questions that drew attention to her. It was absolutely necessary to security that she behave as if she'd been seeing these things for a decade. The books were easy enough- she was simply allowed to browse at will while Jeremy found them. The apothecary was the same, though it smelled rather worse and it was a bit boring waiting. The hardest part was the robes, which she would have to get without Jeremy's help while he waited outside. It had sounded rather easier to get fitted for clothing before she was inside, being approached by busybody witches expecting her share opinions on the latest brooms and the teaching styles of Hogwarts professors.

When she'd finally finished and taken her first ever floo journey to the Nott manor and Jeremy had left, she started to let loose with endless questions about what she'd seen, only to be cut off by the charming Mr. Nott, Senior, a short, squat man in his forties. She shook his hand in greeting, but she'd hardly had a chance to say her name before receiving the first of many rebuffs.

"Toes pointed outward while standing idle, that's a proper witch," he said. Apparently it wasn't, though, because he made her point them four different ways before they were up to his standards. No sooner had her toes been fixed than her chin was pushed down. "You're in the presence of a wizard more than five years your senior, for Agrippa's sake, chin down!"

"Now really, father, please be patient," said a, a sandy-haired man about her age who had to be Theodore. "She's never heard any of this before; how would she know?"

"No time like the present to learn, then," replied Nott Sr. "The slightest mistake in the Ministry of Magic and it's all downhill!"

"I'm sorry about my father," sighed Theodore. "It's just that this stuff's been drilled into him since birth, and he's rather overexcited about being allowed to help the Order in a more hands-on position. Anyway, you must be exhausted! Let me show you to your room."

The manor was lovely. If she hadn't found out just that morning that she was to start magic lessons tomorrow, and if she wasn't being plagued by doubts about how well she could handle a highly dangerous top-secret mission, Liza might have slept quite well.

The morning passed rather quietly, considering, until the housekeeper tried to give Liza her first potion. It had taken a while for Theodore to explain that these were perfectly safe, even though he and his father weren't sure precisely what would happen. After breakfast and a few more etiquette lessons, the part she'd been waiting for began. She tried to levitate her first feather. Apparently, this was a first step at Hogwarts, although few people had ever performed it wandless.

Six potions, eight charms, and two hexes later, nothing had happened (thankfully, the hex had been directed at Theodore, who was perfectly capable of defending himself. Her matchsticks still weren't needles, her flowers still weren't purple, and the feather remained stubbornly on the ground. The room was littered with books about teaching and magical theory, and it seemed as if Project Coup was never going to happen.

I didn't expect it, but I think we're going to see some Professor Higgins/Colonel Pickering interaction, except that Mr. Nott, Sr. is married. Comments welcome, criticism as well as good things.


	4. That's Our Brilliant Plan?

"So, what exactly is the plan once I do learn enough wandless magic? Do I actually have to assassinate the Minister of Magic?" asked Liza one day.

"Oh, of course not," Theodore responded, a bit disconcerted. "The Order of the Phoenix is against all killing. Besides, they'd just get a new leader. One part of our goal is to spy on the opposition and find out what their next move is in order to sabotage it. Pauline's handling that part- she's a trained auror. But sabotage is only a delay tactic until our final operation gets off the ground, though. That's where you come in.

We're still in the planning stages, but it's going to go something like this. We get you and a few more people like you to get jobs at the ministry, staggering your starting times so no one gets suspicious. And when they least suspect it, the ministry starts to notice people... disappearing. Without a trace, quite mysterious, of course. That's the job we need you and your colleagues for. When you get a few Walpurgi alone, you knock them out of action with expelliarmus, a body bind, anything that works. Then you apparate out of there with them and bring them to our homemade jail. Then we get some muggles that already know about us, introduce them to the Walpurgi, and before you know it, they'll all be converted!"

Liza frowned. "I'm risking my life for people who can't come up with a better plan than _that_? People are going to get suspicious with all those disappearances; no one's that stupid and revolutionaries are always paranoid. Even if we get them here, you can't change someone's life beliefs by introducing them to a few muggles! They'll probably become martyrs to their side instead!"

"That's an oversimplification of our plan, of course. And there's wand detectors all over the ministry, so the Walpurgi are too arrogant to be suspicious."

"I don't believe this," said Liza. Maybe magical powers weren't all they were cracked up to be.

A few days later, Liza saw Jeremy for the first time in weeks. "You came back!" she exclaimed.

Jeremy allowed himself to be pounced on, though he was unable to understand why he meant so much to a girl he'd only spent a few hours with. "Nott can't seem to get your potions right, so I came over to experiment. He's got a phenomenal potions lab." Upon entering the smelly, overcrowded cellar, Liza had to agree. Theodore began asking about what effects she'd felt on which days, and Nott started to demonstrate his problem.

"I can't seem to get the right ratio of newt bile to unicorn horn. I've tried dozens of combinations, but none seem to work," he worried.

Liza looked at his experiments. "Why, it's just like an acid base titration! We did these in chemistry. Look, is there any way to get newt bile to change colors when you've got the right ratio?"

"Well, yes, actually. That would only take a few drops of hagswater."

"Then you just add the unicorn horn a few drops at a time until it changes."

"Theodore, I think she's on to something!" Liza was overjoyed. After weeks of stubbornly stationary feathers, she had finally showed a sign that she was meant to be a witch.


	5. Rallying the Troops

F-T R Wonders whether Mushroom Hunter was mocking her, then decides not to question her good fortune Thanks for your reviews! I think one disclaimer should suffice for the whole story- if my writing style's similar enough to JK Rowling's that someone gets confused, that someone has full permission to sue me.

The list was painfully short. McGonagall's magical list contained only four people that weren't found in Ollivander's records (and some people actually think he keeps it all in his head! I ask you...). Their names and addresses were all on record, and still lived in the U.K. The biggest obstacle seemed to be their ages.

One witch and one wizard were in their seventies and nineties, respectively, which could make them a bit suspicious and cranky, but by wizard standards, they were probably acceptable as ministry members. The second witch was forty-nine, so Liza hoped she wasn't in the middle of a big career. The youngest wizard was a mere sixteen, but Jeremy reckoned he could probably pass for eighteen when he was done training. However, he would probably be the biggest challenge to teach, not to mention getting his parents to go along with it.

Nott was assigned to recruit Nancy and George, the senior citizens. Jeremy got the middle-aged witch, a woman named Estelle. Unfortunately, Liza was trapped with the adolescent, a boy named Allen, who she anticipated would be more difficult than the rest put together.

She stood now at his doorway, wondering how to best phrase her problem, when the door opened and a man who was presumably Allen's father answered it.

"Um, is Allen here?"

"Yes, who are you?"

"I'm... I'm a witch. You heard from one of our kind a few years ago, and, well, we have a situation. I need to speak to Allen- our entire way of life is at stake.

The man puzzled over this. "I suppose you could explain this... situation to Allen and he could decide. I'll get him." She waited a few moments, and a tall black boy with longish hair and brown eyes appeared.

"Why, good afternoon," he said with an Eddie Hascal grin. "I've been expecting you."

"What? Why?"

"Oh, simple. When the esteemed ambassador from the ministry paid me a visit five years hence, I had to decline. My criminal empire was booming, you see, and I couldn't run it from a boarding school. However, my visitor left behind a copy of the daily prophet. There were some strange articles in that thing, you know, and I don't just mean ads for gladrags wizard wear. It seemed rather obvious that these Walpurgi people were planning a coup, and could use a mastermind like myself to help them. I assume you've heard of me?"

This kid was ten times as irritating as she'd expected! "Sorry, but I've never heard of you. I'm from the Order of the Phoenix, a group trying to take down the Walpurgi, who've already gotten control. The only reason we need you is, like me, you have magical powers but don't know wand magic. Since the Walpurgi don't allow wands in their headquarters for security reasons, we've been asked to learn wandless magic, infiltrate the ministry, and take them down."

He considered this for a moment. "Fair enough. How will you be paying me?"

"Does a position in the new world order count for anything?"

Allen snorted. "There's not going to be a new world order unless the Alster's involved in the planning. What is the plan anyway?"

Now it was Liza's turn to be amused. "You don't want to know. Believe me, you can have full tactical power as well as being a mole if you want ."

He nodded nonchalantly. "Okay, okay. Let me see what I can do."

"Great! We leave in an hour. I'll need your parents' permission, though."

"Oh, I'll just leave a hologram. I've been away for months at a time and they never notice. I don't know how they managed to have a son like me."

"All right. Our first stop is Nott manor, and then Jeremy will take you to Diagon Alley..." That would be sure to shut him up.

Now that there were five of them, the little attic where the wandless students were taught seemed more like a school. Liza gave them all positions in her head. Nancy was teacher's pet- she accepted the toe pointing and chin tucking without question. Apparently she was used to deportment changing every few years. This was the woman who was still doggedly trying spells hours after the others had quit.

George, strange as it was for a man in his nineties, seemed to be class clown, although he was bad at it. He pulled the 'got your nose' gag like it was going out of style and treated Nott like a crochety grown-up son.

Estelle, who had, in fact, been in accounting, was only here because her husband was willing to support their family financially while she was away, and her kids thought having a witch in the family would be the coolest thing in the world. She assumed the unlikely position of the rebel, pointing out that it was useless for Theodore to demonstrate the spells with a wand when his students couldn't have them. Ever cynical, she seemed to think they'd be here for years rather than months.

Allen, for whatever reason, seemed to be rather helpful. He turned out to have a plan after all, and seemed to make the most progress with spellwork. As he explained it, since children can produce spells when they're upset, the way to look at wandless magic was a series of frustrations. He himself had been practicing for years and found it quite useful. Estelle, who was pretty high strung anyway, took to this approach immediately. "I- CAN'T- FIND- MY- PENCIL!", she would wail, and then it would appear. The others took longer to get in touch with their inner drama queens. Liza suggested some potions to fix this. She reasoned that they wouldn't need them in the ministry, because when three or four angry Walpurgi were lunging at her, she was sure to be quite frightened enough to work a miracle or two.


	6. That's Our IMPROVED Brilliant Plan?

Unsurprisingly, Estelle and Allen were the first ready to get jobs- they were killing everyone else in the practice duels (though it was rather amusing seeing Nancy as a rubber chicken). Allen, as the tactician, insisted on going first so he could warn the others about problematic questions that arose during the interviewing process (e.g., did you have Grenwood for Defence at Hogwarts? Remember how he spit when he talked?) He seemed confident that he would think the best under pressure, but Liza wasn't so sure. However, when he came back with an intern position an hour after leaving, she had to be impressed.

Estelle would be harder, as she would be expected to have previous job experience. However, she decided to tell them she was a housewife who was ready to get a job after sending her last child to Hogwarts, and landed a job in the Department of Misuse of Propaganda, which she said reminded her eerily of the Ministry of Truth from a book she'd read in college.

Liza could pass for eighteen when she had finished developing her powers, but Nancy and George posed something of a problem, until Estelle thought of having them pose as her minimally-lingual grandparents from Italy and request a filing job for them. This worked well until the interviewer tried to speak Italian to them, a closer shave than anyone would have liked.

Allen had managed a pretty good alternative to Jeremy's "they just disappeared!" plan. Since the rise of the Walpurgi, the Order of the Phoenix now had thirty-nine members who were willing to drink Polyjuice Potion for a few weeks while the Walpurgi were converted.

Because the major part of Jeremy's plan, converting the Walpurgi with close contact to muggles, was still in place. The difference was that they weren't going to give an explanation for the muggles. They would remove the Walpurgis' powers and place them in a prison cell with some muggles, who would be instructed to pretend they didn't know why they were there either. Eventually the Walpurgi would realize that it was the muggles that should afraid of them, not the other way around.

When they'd seen sense, the Walpurgi would be let in on the plan and instructed to go back to work as usual until such time as enough were converted to start a rebellion. Liza still wasn't impressed by her side's master plan. She wasn't counting on the twists that Allen wasn't letting her in on.

Virtual cookies to whoever correctly guesses the book


	7. Not Telling All You Know

(::) (::) (::) There's your virtual cookies, Deborah; you've definitely earned them. Actually, I was thinking of just sticking Artemis Fowl in the story, but I didn't really feel like making it a crossover this late, and Artemis wouldn't be doing this for the pure love of power anyways (he'd be too busy planning a Gringotts heist). Also, I apologize for the absence of dialogue in the last chapter- I'm not really used to this showing-not-telling thing yet.

The first day of work usually makes people anxious, but it was worse for Liza. She was even anxious about being anxious- what if she let off her magic before she was supposed to? Her worries were put to an abrupt end, though as she reached the front desk and a rather unattractive man in his sixties started to give her directions.

"Hello, Miss DiMarco. You must be the new intern in Magical Crime Control," he said in a raspy voice. She had used as much strategic makeup as she could to look eighteen, and now she smiled shyly, as if she wasn't sure she could live up to the name of Magical Crime officer. "Have you brought a wand, a power crystal, or any other illegal source of magic?" She shook her head no. "All right, then. Now your main function for the next few weeks is going to be to organize reports for the senior officers and run any errands that they might need."

In other words, Liza would be a typical lackey intern. This suited her just fine- she now had an excuse to be anywhere as long as she could think up a phony message when questioned. She let the manager drone on until they got to the fourth floor, and she spotted her first familiar face. "... and if you have any questions, you can just ask Antonito, I mean, Antoinelli, or is it Antonio? Well, he's asked us to just call him George."

George gave Liza the tiniest of winks and began telling her a long and obviously fabricated story about his deatheater days during Voldemort's first reign. Allen had insisted everyone have a partner except him, so Estelle was working with her 'mother' and Liza got George. Today at four they were supposed to attempt their first abduction, and problems were easier to solve with a partner.

Liza spent the day getting coffee for cocky officers and copying rap sheets for 'dangerous offenders', though they appeared to be freedom fighters to hert. With this many people who believed in their cause, Liza wondered if there was some way to organize them. Allen was probably right. The best way to take anything down is from the inside. If his plan failed, though...

It wasn't going to, not when they'd all worked so hard on it. She found George and prepared for test subject alpha.

They saw a blonde woman who was clearly an executive enter an elevator. Quickly following her, they saw two men already in the elevator, nervously noting that they'd have to do all three at once or risk leaving witnesses. George gave the signal.

Liza thought about what these people had done, how many lives they'd taken in the name of their cause, and how evil they were. As she did so, she felt energy seeping out of her and into the executives. In an instant, they were body-bound and George had conjured strings that held them to his hands. Liza and George then tried furiously to apparate, only to discover that apparently the Walpurgi were more paranoid than they thought.

Liza tried to stay calm, then remembered that panicking was the source of her magic. One more burst of energy and all five were invisible, seconds before the elevator opened. They stayed as quiet as they could and rushed out the back door and into the street. Finally, they reached the end of the anti-apparation wards and landed with a clunk in the room Allen had designated.

Estelle and Nancy had gotten there first, and Liza caught the end of their conversation.

Allen was speaking in a tone normally reserved for comforting very young children. "Now, now. You had no control over the matter. It's known as wild magic for a reason, you know."

"But... but this wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Even so, ladies, you must admit it's furthered our cause. A few hundred more of these, and the world can return to normal."

It was then that Liza noticed seven people walking out the door. They looked exactly like the seven people on the floor of the room, except that the people on the floor happened to be dead. Liza, George, Nancy, and Estelle stared in horror at their young leader.

This was definitely not part of the plan.


	8. Liza's Moles

"Can't we talk about this?" Asked Nancy.

"Oh, no. The great leaders never discuss plans with minions. Did Caesar ever 'talk about' anything with lesser generals?" There was definitely something wrong with Allen. He'd been so much different in class and meetings, respecting the opinions of the older Order members, explaining why his plans were more likely to work, even compromising. They should have known when he laughed at George's pranks that he was too good to be true. All leaders know how to be folksy to gain power. Now things had changed. He'd gotten his first kill, and, bubbling with confidence, he'd let his brutal side seep through his friendly demeanor like the Amazon through a pile of sandbags.

Liza was furious, but she managed to remain calm for the remaining good moles. Now that Allen had turned out to be rather more ruthless than expected, it occurred to her that she was probably leader of this group, being the first approached and all. She clenched her fists and met his ecstatic, dancing eyes with a determined stare. "You can't do this, Allen. We won't go back if it means somebody could get killed."

Allen seemed to believe differently. "Oh, but you will. You wanted this government removed, didn't you? This is the only dependable way. What does it matter if some genocidists die?"

"No one should have to die unnecessarily! You said it yourself- we can let them meet the muggles! We'll de-brainwash them! We can... I don't know, turn them into children and reeducate them, something! But this isn't a group of murderers. You'll have to do that on your own." She glanced almost pleadingly around for the others, only to find that they were definitively standing behind their new leader. This seemed to please her, and she looked back at Allen to see how he was taking the new development.

He rebounded with a fresh wave of reason, but the damage was done. "You can't do this without me. Turn them into children? Not only is that impossible, it would be as bad as murder! This 'we' you speak of was nothing before me. I taught you wandless magic."

"'We' are the good moles," Said Estelle. "We're Liza's Moles; she's a better leader than you any day. We'd have figured out the magic without you, and we'll fix the Walpurgi, even if it means doing it without your help."

"Save the cute little patriotic speeches. Do you remember where the real power of this mission comes from, though?"

It was over in two excruciatingly long minutes. Estelle had thrown the first curse, and this time Jeremy wasn't here to break them up. Estelle and Allen seemed evenly matched, but with the other Moles' help, Allen was reduced to a pile of so many feathers and swastikas (Liza supposed the swastikas were from George, who'd served in the second World War).

"What now?" Asked Nancy nervously.

"Take out his memory and throw him in a muggle street somewhere," ordered Liza. It was really a shame. They were going to need all the help they could get in the upcoming weeks.

Two weeks saw a drastic difference in Nott manor. Once Liza had gotten become engrossed in Morals of Magic, Ethics of Enchantment, it was all she would think about after work for three days (though if she'd wanted, she really could have skipped the chapter defending love potions). Her Moles had set up makeshift prisons in some unused bedrooms. Though they'd managed to remove their inmates' magic powers en masse after one had tried to curse George into Mongolia, it hadn't had much effect on the prisoners' attitudes.

Because they weren't sure what would work, precisely, it was Estelle's idea to try 'experimental wards'. Instead of putting all the Walpurgi together, there were four to a room, and as many differences as the Moles could think of. There was the Straight Room, where they tried using reason on the Walpurgi, the Muggle Room- Control Unit, where muggles were brought in to talk to them, the Muggle Room- Variable Unit, where muggles were brought in, but the Walpurgi weren't told they were muggles until they'd made friends with the prisoners, and even a variation of the Hogwarts Room of Requirements. Only time would tell what happened next.

A/N Okay, I have no idea what to make happen next, though I have an idea of the ending. Therefore, you, the readers, get to vote on which experimental ward(s) work(s), if any. You can make up your own ward if you explain how and why it works. I'll wait about three days for reviews. Good luck!


	9. Consorting with the Enemy

Well, isn't it reassuring when the reviews stop when you were going to finally have a use for them! I eventually remembered Skull Bearer's An Explanation of the Dark Order, and suddenly realized that the resolution of this fic was going to be rather difficult. I can only try...

Weeks passed, the jails filled up and eight people now resided in each room. According to Theodore, none of the experiments seemed to be working, so one day after work, Liza decided to watch one of the muggle visits and see what new knowledge it brought her.

"... And it fascinated me, really, when my brother came home and started showing us magic," an old muggle was saying. "Then he set my nose on fire and my parents called the police. The next year, he wouldn't do any tricks for me, though. Said they'd made a new rule..." He was the epitome of harmless; however, the convicts around him still seemed eager to tear his ears off.

Liza could take no more. "What's wrong with you? Are you really _afraid_ of this man?"

The convict who appeared to have the most status stood up. "You here to negotiate? And I mean really negotiate, as in listening, not like those half-wit speech givers?"

Apparently, the convicts had some form of communication. She thought about it. Who'd ever made a truly successful government without listening to the opposing side?

"This one? He's not our problem. But what if it hadn't been his brother that set his nose on fire? What if it were some strange wizard?"

"That's why they made the rule. They don't want any accidents."

"What if he'd been a conservative Catholic? They don't like magic, to say the least."

"What can one Catholic do? We have curses they've never dreamed of!"

"All the time, people say, 'what can one ant do? We can just step on it?' Then ten thousand of them destroy their house. Muggles kill people because their skin is a different color. What are they going to do when they find a race that's really different?"

Liza's reasoning was faltering. "They aren't going to find us!"

"Oh really? How do you know?"

"It's called a memory charm." Really, this guy thought he had all the answers.

"What happens when a muggle with a temper gets his nose burned off and tells his government?"

"Nobody's going to believe him!"

"Okay, what happens when a muggle with a temper gets his nose burned off and tells his government, bringing a carelessly discarded chocolate frog card as evidence? Said angry muggle can explain odd happenings that have puzzled his race for centuries. Then somebody puts the chocolate frog card on this television thing they have. This generation's surveillance technology is growing phenomenally. We can't plan for everything! At least now nobody has to worry about not waking up one morning because a nuclear bomb-head has destroyed his entire city." Okay, maybe he did have the answer to everything.

"Now wait just one minute!" protested the muggle. "I'm not going to tell anybody about my brother, not if they're going to hurt him over it."

Neither party was calm enough to explain to the man that it wasn't him they were arguing about. The Walpurgi continued. "We're not genocidal, if that's what you think. I know some think we're just carbon copies of Lord Voldemort, but that was the liberal side of our party. Nobody's going to get killed in future generations, after all the muggles that know now are taken care of. We're just going to stop letting muggle-borns in on our secret."

This was new information, but Liza remained firm. "No. No killing, period. Preemptive action isn't worth it. If they haven't told yet, we're going to have to assume they won't."

"You can't assume anything."

Her voice took on a higher pitch. "You're lucky we're even giving you a say! No killing, that's just descending to their level. And we can't just set an army of untrained muggle-borns on the world."

"Have you even been listening?"

Liza continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. "Instead, we're just going to train them separately. I used to have an interest in science, I can think of a muggle excuse. Genetic mutations?"

The convict chortled. "According to our leading evolutionists, that's essentially true."

Now they were making progress. "We'll set it up through the muggle schools. A special extracurricular activity, see? Hmm, we send out a muggle-born to every school in London where there's reported muggle-born students after we stop sending out the Hogwarts letter. We tell them they're accepted into an experimental program, and they're telekinetics."

"Tele what?"

"It's basically a scientific word for someone who can do wandless magic. Purely theoretical, but I do wonder if a few are genuine? Anyway, we train them and slowly introduce them to the world. Then a few years later, we gently inform them of the community of telekinetics that's been around for a pretty long time..."

"That's- that's anti-seclusionist!"

"What's the problem with it? Without the magi-political terms that I don't know."

"I don't know, but I'll think of one."

She smiled. "Then I'll be ready."

I really do apologize for that abysmal excuse for an ending. Anybody want an epologue?


End file.
